Say Good Morning to the One You Love
by chloeewenzel
Summary: You know, Clint's hands may look hard and tired, but I have only ever known them as soft and warm. And sometimes he doesn't want to talk, but it almost feels like we can have a whole conversation in silence. But he can always make me smile, even when I don't want to, and I always find myself doing the same for him. Most of all, he likes me to hold him when he is in pain.
1. Late Night Call

"Good morning, Mr. Stark. I trust you slept well?"

I greeted the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist with a warm smile as he walked through the door in his silken robe.

"I did," he shot a smile back, groaning and stretching his muscles as he plopped down onto the lounge.

I flipped the pancakes on the pan a couple more times before placing them on a plate with a huge scoop of ice-cream, drizzled in golden syrup with a few strawberries on top. I tucked my red curls behind my ear and walked over to where he sat, placing his plate on the coffee table in front of him because I knew he didn't like to be handed things.

He sat up straight, eyeing me as I sat down on the love seat and watched him reach for his plate.

"Jarvis could have done that." He raised an eyebrow.

"I was more then happy to make you some breakfast, Mr. Stark." I smiled, getting back up and pouring some orange juice for him, heels clicking against the floor.

He chuckled lightly as he demolished the pancakes, obviously enjoying the meal. I sat back down, waiting for him to finish.

"What do I have to do to know your story?" he asked, placing his plate down and chugging the remainders of his juice.

"I'm sorry, sir?" I asked in mock innocence, frowning slightly.

"You know what I mean. Your so distant, so professional, there must be more to you then a pretty face." He laid back, folding his hands behind his head.

"I'm afraid that there is nothing too exciting about me, sir." I lied, little did he know.

"Mhm, that would explain the photo shoot in Tokyo…" he murmured quietly, loud enough for me to hear, but I acted oblivious.

"Sir, Miss Pott's is on her way." Jarvis's voice suddenly interrupted the short conversation. I stood up quickly, straightening out my knee-length black dress and folding my hands behind my back expectantly.

"Good morning, Miss Pott's." I greeted kindly, smiling at her as she walked through the door in her usual neat attire.

"Morning, Natalie." She smiled kindly back, but there was something stony in her expression.

"Hey, Pepper, you missed out on breakfast!" Stark stood up as well, pointing to me with a grin. "Natalie is also a great cook."

I smiled. "I would be more then happy to make some for you, too, Miss-"

"No, no, I'm sure it was lovely, but I already ate." She said with an expression that looked like she was afraid I would poison her.

I nodded, walking over to the kitchen sink and cleaning the dishes I used to cook with. Stark and Pepper began chatting quietly by the lounge, and I didn't bother trying to listen in.

I sighed, closing my eyes as I scrubbed the dishes longer then necessary. I needed to do something, spar, go for a run, anything other then being crammed inside all day organizing Stark's life with a woman who didn't trust me.

I leaned against the bench. My body wasn't used to being so… _normal._

I just hope Stark finds a cure to his sickness soon so I can stop keeping tabs on him and finally go home.

Well, finally go back to S.H.I.E.L.D, the only real home I have other then the small apartment in New York, which I rarely ever visited.

This was going to be yet another long day full of phone calls and paper work and heels that clicked with every step I took.

.

By the time I was ready to go home, it was 10:30pm and I was about to snap my phone in half if another person called.

"I really wish you would cancel your party, Tony. With everything that has happened lately, it's the worst thing you could do." I heard Pepper argue with Stark at the door of her office.

"Pepper, just shush, honestly, you need to relax, let loose. Right, Natalie?" Stark called over to me, and I looked over my shoulder and pretended that I didn't know what they were talking about.

"Pardon, sir?"

"Oh, we were just discussing tomorrow night." Pepper rushed, smiling sourly at me. "We're going to head off now. I'm sorry I'm leaving you here with all this paper work to file away."

"Oh, it's no problem at all," I smiled, and said goodnight as they made their way out of the large office. When I was sure they were gone, I walked over to the other side of the large desk and plopped down onto the plush black chair. I hadn't sat properly all day, and these heels were killing me!

I continued to separate the large pile of paper into files and draws, setting them in alphabetical order and reading a few important passages that I would need to remember for later. I was almost finished, when my phone began to buzz on the desk.

I growled, who would be calling at this time of night?

"Natalie Rushman of Stark Enterprises here, how may I help you?" I said in my fake sweet tone, rolling my eyes as I stood up and wondered around the room.

"_Natalie Rushman? Oh, it seems I have the wrong number, sorry."_

I smiled, I could recognize that voice anywhere.

"Hey, Barton."

He chuckled over the line, and I stroked the petals of the white flowers that sat in a crystal vase on the smooth desk.

"_How's it going over there?"_ he asked, and there was an irritating noise in the background of the speaker.

"Boring. This man is so obnoxious, I don't get why so many women make such a fuss over him!" I sighed into the phone, leaning my back against the desk.

"_Must be better then back here," _he chuckled again, sounding bored.

Fury decided he wanted to separate us for a while, and send me to Malibu and Clint to New Mexico for two missions that didn't suit our agenda at all.

"Kicked any ass yet?" I asked, twirling my hair in my fingers absentmindedly.

"_None at all." _He sighed, and the noise was starting to really annoy me.

"Are you in the rain?" I raised an eyebrow as I slid up onto the black desk easily. I crossed my leg over the other, smiling as he chuckled once again.

"_Yeah, I'm kinda in the air, too. Was supposed to shoot some gold-haired fella who broke into the facility, but Coulson took all the fun away."_ Clint replied, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"Always see better from a distance, hey?" I asked sarcastically.

"_Always."_

_._

_Hey there! I do not own any characters and each chapter is based on the artwork of Lettibobettie. If you would like to see said artwork, just click onto my profile and the link will be written right there, because I just discovered that fanfiction wont let me post links on my story, gah._

_Anyway, please have a look at them, they are beautiful and so worth the look!_

_Once again, dont own any characters, especially Jeremy Renner... yet... _

_REVIEW!_


	2. Budapest

Our mission in Budapest didn't exactly go as planned.

If we were to have it our way, we would have poisoned the target and gotten the hell out before anybody knew what was happening.

But our target had other enemies. He was the drug lord of Hungary, and many gangs and rebellions were after him, particularly on the only night he would make an appearance out of his base for the first time this year.

The coward had bought his wife and two children along with him at the restaurant, which was heavily guarded by his men. They tried to act calm, as if they were just at a normal family dinner, but they were all frightened and awkward. And they should be. Two master assassins were sitting three tables away from them.

Of course we had no intention on killing his family, only him, but they were all dead by the end of the night.

Before we even had the chance to poison him, his guards were ushering him and his family out of the restaurant, and before we knew what was happening, there was gunshots and screams coming from outside.

He had been ambushed and we were stuck in the middle of it.

It all lead to a massive car chase, which we joined, and many men were killed. Eventually dozens of men from three different gangs were shooting at each other, and us, and an explosion occurred, killing the drug lord and his family. We were stuck between a slab of concrete and a brick wall, nowhere to go and low on ammo.

Our uniforms were torn and we were bleeding through several injuries, and we were outnumbered.

And there was a smashed up car, which was leaking petrol, and the only way out was to blow our way out.

So Clint set his arrow to an explosive point, shot the leaking car which blew up, and killed all the men around us in an explosion of rock, metal and fire. We didn't leave unharmed from it, either. Shards of glass and metal pierced our skin. We were a mess.

Fury was, ironically, furious. We were collected as soon as we blew the car up, and a S.H.I.E.L.D squad was sent to clean up the mess and gather the bodies. The counsel had to come up with a cover story, and Fury's two best agents were severely injured.

But even with all these injuries, we refused to go to the doctors. We hated being poked and prodded, and could handle each other easily. We were trained for such things, of course.

Clint and I showered together in a bloody mess, removing shards of glass from places we couldn't reach on our own and fixing up our injuries on each other. We were covered in bandages, stitches and fresh scars, burns that ached and cuts and stung.

"We should have been quicker. We could have gotten out of that easily, and we would be alright." We were arguing now.

"We did the best that we could, Nat!" he sat down on the bed wearing only his black boxers.

I threw my towel to the ground, not caring that I was completely exposed to him as I yanked out a pair of black panties and a matching bra. I put them on, ignoring the pain, and sat down beside him.

"Two innocent children died tonight. We could have stopped that."

Clint placed both his hands on my shoulders, looking me deeply in the eyes.

"Nothing we could have done would have saved them, alright? They would have wound up dead either way." He whispered in a husky voice, eyes showing his exhaustion.

I sighed and leaned into his touch, and eventually he scooped me into his arms so I was straddling his waist. I supported most of my own weight, weary of his injuries, and he smiled up at me lightly.

"At least we got out together." He lifted my chin so I was looking into his eyes. He was the only man who ever saw me at my weakest.

"I thought I lost you." I closed my eyes, images of Clint laying in a bloody and rocky mess against the brick wall flashing through my mind.

"I was fine. I just wasn't quick enough to duck away like you did." He rested an arm on my hip reassuringly, and I pressed my hand onto his heart, which was covered by a bandage. I could feel it beating steadily against my palm, and that helped me to relax.

Clint knew that children were a sensitive topic with me. In our work, I would try my hardest to make sure no child would face danger, because I don't want their young years to be wasted and taken away from them like mine were. It was a sad, empty feeling that gnawed at my mind and teased me, because I grew up too soon and killed before I was even a young teenager.

When Clint came along, and made a different call, he saved me from what I had become. I learnt about my life, about the brain washing and the murders, the red room and everything else. It had taken me months to get over it, to become the woman I was now, and Clint had been there from the very beginning.

Many were suspicious of our relationship, but Clint was purely my partner, my best friend, nothing else. Love would get in the way of our work, and it was frowned upon by all of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Clint and I were like two matching puzzle pieces. We knew each other like an open book, knew every emotion on our faces or every glint in our eye.

His eyes calmed me. They were like the colour of the ocean at dawn. A blue-grey colour that could pierce right through me. They were indeed beautiful.

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered, resting his head in the crook of my neck, his breath tickling my collar bone.

"You."

I felt him nod. He knew what I meant; he didn't need an explanation, which made things easy when we didn't want to talk.

I knew he was thinking of me, too. I could tell from the small caresses he made across my hip absentmindedly, and how his other hand ran its fingers through the long curls of my hair.

"Can you sing for me?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder and feeling the wetness of blood press against his skin from the cut on my brow.

He chuckled lightly.

"Can I hum?"

"Sure."

He started to hum lightly, his lips vibrating on my neck as a soft tune escaped his lips, throaty and husky and strong.

I loved his voice, it was magic. I was the only one who knew he could sing, and it was a privilege to know that this voice only touched the ears of me.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on his voice and the feel of his fingers lace through my hair. If anyone were to walk in right now, they would think of the worst, but no body knew that this was how we comforted each other after a mission that went wrong.

He sighed when he finished humming his song, pulling away with a grimace at the movement. He lifted me off of him gently, and I crawled under the blankets as he joined me. The S.H.I.E.L.D cabin beds weren't the most comfortable, but Clint's warm body next to mine always made it better.

"Coulson will wonder why I'm not in my own bed." Clint murmured in my ear. I shrugged.

"Coulson should know that you sleep with me most nights anyway."

"True." He laughed quietly, and I grinned beside him as I reached over and turned the small lamp off, leaving us in darkness as I turned and curled into his bear chest, resting my head near his heart so I could fall asleep to the steady beating of life under the skin.

* * *

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	3. Cut

"Clint, please, I need this."

"I can't, Nat."

She sighed in frustration.

"You're the only one I trust to do this to me, Clint. I'm desperate." She pressed.

"I'm your partner, Nat. You know I'll only ruin you."

"You're fingers are the most talented little things I have ever seen in my life, just do this, for me."

I let out a growl from the back of my throat as I spun the scissors around in my fingers a couple of times.

"Fine. How short?"

"Above my shoulders please." She turned her back to me and sat on the small stool, pulling a towel over her shoulders.

I grabbed a lock of red curly hair, twirling it in my fingers before snipping it off in one swift movement. It fell to the floor in a small bundle, more and more joining the growing pile of hair on the ground.

Natasha insisted she get her hair cut, complaining that it always got in her way on missions and that she wanted something new. I thought it was ridiculous, she was basically famous for her hair, and now it was lying in a pile by our feet.

"I can't believe you made me do this." I growled when I was done, and she stood up from the stool and let the towel fall to the floor as she made her way over to the mirror to examine herself closely.

The now short curly hair hung around her face evenly, making her features look far more striking and just as terrifying. It made her face look sharper and her cheeks hollowed, and for one second I thought she didn't like it, until she turned around with a small smile on her face.

"I told you you were talented." She stated, running a hand through her freshly trimmed curls and looking sadly at the red pile on the floor. "I am going to miss it, though."

"So am I." I sighed, grabbing the broom and sweeping up the mess.

"You don't like it?" she mumbled, narrowing her eyes slightly.

I shook my head. "No, I love it. It's just going to take some getting used to is all."

"Yeah, you can say that again." She grinned, walking over to the shower and turning the taps, putting her hand under the running water until it reached her desired temperature. She began peeling off her clothing slowly, and when she reached her panties and bra, she shot a glance over at me, standing with the broom in my hand and just staring.

"Why are you still in here?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry." I quickly walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind me, hearing her chuckle slightly as she got rid of the remaining clothes.

"Little spider…" I muttered as I walked into the kitchen and pulled out an apple, not really tasting it but eating it anyway. The small dorm was only just big enough to be fit for two people with its small kitchen and single bedroom and bathroom. I really should be keeping my own dorm company, but it had remained empty for weeks and nearly all my belongings were shifted into here.

There was a knock on the door suddenly, and I placed the apple on the bench and took a look through the peephole. It was Coulson. I opened it, and he simply invited himself in, pulling his glasses off his face and tucking them into the cuff of his suit.

"Where is Agent Romanoff?" he said simply, looking around the slightly untidy room with a blank expression.

"She's in the shower." I grabbed my apple and starting munching on it again. Coulson sighed and pulled out a large file, handing it to me. It had both mine and Natasha's name written on it. Great. More paper work.

"What's this for?"

"It's for a new facility we're working on. I need the two of you to put down your details and confirmation signature's and hand it back to me by the end of the week." Coulson shot a glance at his watch.

"This better be good, Phil." I smirked, and he narrowed his eyes before smiling back at me, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"You're lucky I let you call me by my first name, or I would have chopped your tongue off by now." He put his glasses back on. "Remember, end of this week, it's important. Have a good… night." He left the room, giving me a weird look before closing the door behind him.

The shower stopped running, and a shiny Natasha walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, her freshly cut curls hanging limply around her face as she walked over to the small chest of draws.

"How's your neck?" I said, sliding the file under the microwave. We can deal with it later.

"Still sore." She opened another draw, pulling out one of my black tops and holding it up briefly before shoving it under her arm and rummaging through another.

Since Budapest, it seems that she's pulled a muscle that was hard for her to loosen in the spot it was in.

I walked over to her, now able to see the back of her neck perfectly. I reached out and rubbed her neck in the spot she loved so much, and she settled into my touch almost instantly. I began working my fingers and smothering them all over her sore neck, and she let out a sigh as I released the kink and sore muscle. She dropped her towel, to my surprise, and revealed her bare back to me completely.

She had a gorgeous back, so thin and shapely, yet her pale skin was decorated with scars, old and new, each holding it's own memory on her creamy back. My hands moved from her neck and to her shoulder blades, kneading them with my thumbs and rubbing her skin affectionately.

She sighed and walked over to the bed, towel and clothes forgotten, and she pulled the blanket over the lower part of her body, turning to lie on her stomach and rest her face on her arms. I kicked off my boots and straddled her backwards, continuing my little massage and earning sighed and moans as my skilled hands smoothed out every tensed bit of flesh.

I bent down, pressing small kisses down her spine, causing her to shudder, then moving to kiss each scar, each battle wound on this perfect woman.

She rolled over beneath me, and I lifted myself up so she could pull the blanket over her bare chest before settling back down in my straddling position. She looked up at me, something new filling her eyes, something I'd never seen before.

"How long has it been?" she whispered, clinging onto the blanket and holding it to her chest.

"Six years." I replied. Six years of being partners to this wonderful woman.

She nodded, still that same glint in her eye as she stared into my own.

Her cheeks were still a little pink from the shower and there were slight black marks under her eyes from the makeup she no longer wore. Her lips were parted slightly, in such an attractive way. And she was naked and I was on top of her and…

No. I couldn't think of her that way. I had built a wall around those thoughts, stopped them from lingering on my mind when they shouldn't. I knew she would be furious if I thought of her like that, if she thought I didn't respect her and her body. It was something I learnt after six years of partnership with this woman.

But the way she was looking at me right now, holy shit! It was hard to not let my mind wander a bit. She tilted her head back, her neck totally revealed, and I twitched with anticipation.

"Clint…" she sighed, and then I lost it.

I buried my face in her neck, kissing, sucking, biting at every bit of flesh I could. She gasped, grasping my head and kneading her fingers through the short hair, and I traced kisses along her jaw line, behind her ear, her throat, her collarbone, down, down, down…

I stopped myself then, and she let out a hiss as I pulled back. Her eyes were full of… lust? I didn't know, but I knew my eyes showed the same new glint. She glared up at me, baring her teeth, before yanking my head down and smashing her lips onto my own, teeth clicking at the movement as her tongue snaked it's way into my mouth.

The kiss was passionate, demanding, and we both fought with out tongues for dominance, exploring each others mouth in ways I never thought I would. Her hands moved from my head and down my chest, gripping the end of my shirt and yanking it up. I pulled away, allowing her to strip me completely of my shirt and toss it to the floor before slamming my lips back down to hers, her fingers skimming the hard planes of my stomach in a way that gave me goosebumps.

She opened her legs from under the covers and I slid down so I was basically lying on top of her, my arms of either side of her head to support most of my weight. Our breathing was coming out in pants, and I pulled away and restarted my kisses down her neck once again. She hitched her legs around my waist, the covers restraining the movement slightly, and she pulled me down so my chest was pressed against hers.

"Clint…" she moaned, holding my tighter as I sucked at her neck, leaving a bruise.

"Clint I…"

I moved down, weary, looking up at her. Her grasp loosened around me and her legs moved from my waist. I stopped my kissing, worried.

"I'm sorry Clint, I can't." she said apologetically, her cheeks flushed from the kiss. I rolled off of her, and she slipped out of the bed and pulled on the shirt she chose from the draw not long ago, fishing for some panties and sliding them on too.

I lay on the bed, panting, and reached for my own shirt that lay on the floor, watching her as she made her way over to the kitchen, my long black shirt coming to her mid-thigh and revealing her creamy legs.

She flicked on the kettle, pushing her short hair out of her face and leaning against the bench with her back turned to me. I sighed, running and hand through my hair and scooting off the bed.

"Nat, I'm sorry." I stood in front of her, and she turned to pour herself her favourite cinnamon tea. The spoon clicked against the mug as she mixed it.

"No, don't be. It was my fault." She turned and looked at me, humour playing in her eyes. I let out the breath I was holding. She wasn't mad.

"Yeah, it was." I grinned, and she slapped me hard on the shoulder with a small giggle that I rarely ever heard.

"Well, you _are_ quite the kisser." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm disappointed I couldn't discover that earlier."

"Oh?" I raised my own eyebrow, opening the fridge and pulling out a can of soda, opening it with a crack. "What was stopping you?"

"I could ask you the same thing." she drained the rest of her tea and placed it in the sink.

"Forget it." I chuckled, walking over to the bed and plopping down on the stiff mattress.

I was kinda glad I hid the file Coulson had given me. I never would have experienced such a thrill if I hadn't!

* * *

"Wakey, wakey!"

I groaned, rolling over, away from the source of noise.

"C'mon, Clint."

I let out another groan in response, pulling the pillow over my head and shutting out the light and sound.

"You know it's pointless trying to hide paper work from me in my own dorm. Hurry, I want to get it over and done with."

I kicked my leg in frustration, letting the pillow slide off my face as I rolled over. Natasha was sitting on the ground, her freshly cut hair pulled into a tiny pony tail that little curls fell out of. She was wearing a tank top, and I knew she was going to head for the gym soon.

"What's it for?" I grumbled, hugging the pillow to my head as I closed my eyes.

"S.H.I.E.L.D is working on a new base called the Hellicarrier. Pretty cool shit if you ask me." I opened one eye, watching Natasha bury her nose into the file in interest.

"Why are _we_ getting paperwork then?" I mumbled, glancing at the clock. It was only 7:00am.

"We need to fill out these forms so they can allocate our lockers, rooms, etcetera." She flipped over the page, eyes scanning the written work eagerly.

"They should already have all that shit." I mumbled, turning over and facing the other way.

"Alright, you have fun sleeping in the storage room while I sleep in my double bed when the Helicarrier's built."

I sighed. A double bed would be much better then this.

"Give me the pen."

* * *

_Remember to leave a review and tell me what you think. Also make sure you visit my profile and check out all of Lettibobettie's art that I am basing this fanfic on, you'll love it!_

_I do not own anything except the story line. And I don't own Jeremy Renner. Wah :( _


	4. Greenland Chills

"Okay, Clint, since you claim to be oh so smart, tell me why Greenland is icy and Iceland is green?"

I chuckled, watching as her flaming red hair whipped around her face in the icy wind that blew around us.

"Alright, you got me." I admitted, kneeling down on the small snowy cliff we were perched on. It was almost impossible to see the small cabin that was below us because of the snow, but thanks to my unusually enhanced eyesight, I could just make out the shape of the small house. I could tell Natasha was uncomfortable with the idea of being basically blind, but she made no comment.

She laughed lightly, kneeling down beside me and narrowing her eyes in the harsh wind.

"You know, your red hair doesn't really help us stay unnoticeable to the unwanted eye." I shivered involuntarily, the snow biting at my skin and freezing my bones to the core.

"Oh please, no one could see us in this blizzard." She clicked her tongue and turned her face so that it was facing the wind and her hair blew behind her instead of whipping in her face.

We looked strange in our snow-white S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, identical to our usual black ones. It was an odd feeling to try and mingle in the snow rather then hide in the shadows like all of our other missions.

"It's freezing." I said after my teeth began to chatter violently, and I bit the side of my cheek to stop them from any further clicking. I'd been in the snow in just my vest uniform plenty of times and had always gotten through the cold, but the blizzard was strong and the cold was becoming unbearable.

"Well put your glorious arms away, genius." She punched my arm lightly, her skin cold against mine. "No one's going to see them out here."

I laughed and she grabbed the briefcase, which was covered in a blanket of snow and snapped it open, pulling out two white, thick, fluffy parkas that looked oh so delightful right now. We pulled them on and hugged them close to our bodies, flipping the hoodies onto our heads to stop the wind from biting at our faces.

"We have movement." I mumbled, pulling out my bow and knocking an arrow in within seconds. I heard her grumble beside me and try to catch any sight from below, but she failed miserably and folded her arms across her chest.

I could only barely see the silhouettes of three people huddled around the small house, exchanging paperwork and codes hidden in a silver briefcase that would launch a nuclear missile that was aimed to hit China. It was essential that these three men fell dead and the codes were collected and bought back to S.H.I.E.L.D for further studying and location giveaways to be complete.

I sighed. "I wont be able to kill all three of them in time. One is bound to get away and with this blizzard, it's hard to get an accurate aim." I pulled the bow back and stuck the arrow into my mechanical quiver. I clicked a few buttons here and there before pulling it back out.

"What are you going to do?" Natasha already had her gun in her hand.

"I'm going to have to blow them up, hopefully they don't have too many guards in here that we have to take down, because I just want to go home."

"Typical." She muttered, before I aimed for my arrow to fly with the wind in order to get a clean kill. I let it loose, the familiar pluck and whizzing sound it made as it flew off bringing a smile to my face. We watched as it flew the complete opposite way of the three terrorist, only to be turned back to them on time to strike one clean in the head.

"Three, two, one…"

The sudden sound of an explosion reached our ears and a flash of light was what we saw before we were scaling down the mountain with quick hands and feet, reaching our destination in time to kill the twelve guards that came rushing out of the cabin from the sudden explosion.

I retrieved the briefcase and grabbed any weapons that the guards had a hold of. Natasha was standing there, her dagger hanging in her hand by her side. We were both covered in blood spurts that splattered across our bodies and faces from the throats we slit. The snow was also a thrilling red and white mixture that was littered with bodies.

I made my way back up to the cliff we had been perched on and threw down all our gear, retrieving a shovel and covering the dead bodies in snow. The blizzard would hide the bloody mess we had made by tonight. Once the bodies were all disposed of, I finally noticed that Natasha hadn't moved a muscle the whole time and rushed to her side. It was quite a terrifying sight, her white uniform splattered with blood much like the snow and her face covered in spots of dried up blood too. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes looking blankly into the distance.

I pried the dagger away from her tight grip before discarding it in the snow and wrapping my arms around her waist. She was tense against my body but soon her muscles relaxed and she clenched my parker in her fists and held me against her.

"Hey, are you alright?" I whispered.

"Yeah, yeah… it just brings back memories." Her hot breath tickled my neck and felt good against the cold skin.

"Oh."

She rested her head against my chest, and I ushered us inside the enemies cabin because of the chill that ran up my spine. It was quite a grand place for such a small little house, with one bedroom, kitchen and bathroom lavished in elaborate furniture and decorations. There was a fire crackling in the small living room and I was instantly relieved by the heat that hit my face.

"How did they all fit in here?" Natasha mused to herself, wandering around the small house, skimming her hands over the wall and taking in the sight of every single item in the room.

I shrugged off my damp parka and knelt beside the fire, holding out my hands and letting them basically thaw. My throat had begun to feel quite dry and I was soon to discover a bright red nose as well.

I pulled out my S.H.I.E.L.D issued phone, dialling in Phil's number and holding it to my ear, only to be met with a fuzzy beeping. I tried three more times, and still, no reception.

"Hey, Nat, I can't get through to Phil, the blizzard is effecting our communications." I called out, snapping the phone shut and shoving it back into my pocket. I removed my bow and quiver and dumped them on the lounge, walking into the room I last saw Natasha enter when I got no reply.

She was standing in front of the closet, which had no door handle, her arms folded over her chest. She had also shrugged off her parka, which was laying on the king sized bed in a bundle of white and red. I realised we both still hadn't cleaned up the blood of this houses original inhabitants, but couldn't care less.

"There's something in there." She said when I stood besides her, staring at the handless door in accusation as if it had done something to offend her. "Help me open it."

I sighed, unhinging the handless door with the tip of my knife as a replacement for a screwdriver, and Natasha caught it before it fell and flattened my against the floor. She picked it up easily, leaning it against the wall opposite us before standing beside me and looking into what seemed to be an elevator.

"I knew it…" she whispered, mostly to herself before she took and step in.

"Hey! You don't know what could be in there! More guards? Anything!" I protested, taking a step forward and catching her tiny wrist in my hand. She merely shrugged and gave me an evil smirk before using my grip on her to yank me forward and stumble into the small elevator and close the metal grating before we were sent downwards.

I stood up from where I fell, staggering and landing against her body. My weight caused her to stumble back slightly, until her back was pressed against the cold metal and my body pressed against hers.

I didn't move, didn't dare to breath, as she looked up at me almost stunned. My hands rested against the wall on either side of her arms, and her eyes glowed with that unfamiliar glint again. She stared up at me, eyes wide and a magnificent green in the light.

"S-sorry." I mumbled, ordering my body to move but it refused to even budge, and I felt my face inch closer to her own against my will. Her eyes flickered over my face, her mouth agape slightly as she leaned up and brushed her nose against my own, letting out a shaky laugh, almost tentatively as her lips lightly skimmed over my own.

My muscles were tight, not only from the cold but from the fact that my partner was once again touching her lips to mine. I knew we were balancing on the blade of a knife, tip-toeing along a rickety bridge. All the hidden feelings for her, all the dreams of her I hadn't even thought to come true, were slowly unravelling with each touch, each caress upon our bodies that we made. It was almost overwhelming to know that the most dangerous woman in the world was kissing me and (hopefully) not planning on killing me afterwards, like I had watched her do to many targets out on the field plenty of times before.

She pulled back almost instantly; her eyes suddenly ablaze before she yanked me forward again by my collar and slammed her lips hard against my own. I was taken aback slightly, but responded as soon as her lips began moving against mine and our bodies moulded together as one.

Does this happen to everyone? Does such a build up of trust and friendship between two people eventually end up in passionate intimacy? I thought of all the other agents and their partners, and realised that some were probably facing this new territory with their partner as well, that Natasha and I weren't the only people from S.H.I.E.L.D to have a strong bond and connection.

Her hands moved from my collar to my arms, and she gripped the taught skin and dug her nails into my flesh as my tongue skimmed her own and she bucked against me slightly, and to my own surprise, my hand trailed down her waist and over her thigh before hitching it up over my hip and earning a surprised gasp from her lips.

Our breaths were coming out in pants and our movements became shaky as we fumbled to touch each other in places we'd only dreamt about. I gripped her short hair in my fist and pulled it almost roughly, and she let out a groan as my hand trailed up her leg and skimmed her great ass.

And as if she was suddenly having second thoughts, as if I had once again taken things too far when we kissed, she tensed up and mumbled my name with an apologetic 'we can't do this' before snaking out of my grip just as the elevator doors opened and walked out, leaving me there, panting, lips kiss-swollen and left with a tingling sensation but mingling with rejection as she walked into a huge underground room full to the brim with crates of weapons and explosives alike.

I let out a low whistle, shaking my head of recent thoughts and wandering into the room behind her. Her hair was slightly out of place and she was still regaining her breath, and she refused to meet my eyes.

"Coulson's gonna love this." She mumbled, and I nodded my agreement although she didn't see.

.

Sick.

I get back from Greenland with a bright, runny nose and a closed up throat and a raging temperature, only to be confirmed ill and given a week sick leave with Natasha.

She took me to her apartment in New York that was owned by an elderly Italian woman who also believe Natasha was Italian, and I picked up a few sentences about bringing hot tomato soup and to keep the volume down if things get too frisky. Natasha just laughed and said something about being strictly partners, and the side-glance she shot me made me feel like she was talking more to me then anyone else.

The tiny apartment was so unlike Natasha that I almost thought we were in the wrong one. It was decorated with paintings and small souvenirs and pot plants with cherry tomatoes growing wildly on it. Her room had a double bed with a pale blue cover and a shelf containing many books stacked on top of each other. She walked straight into the little kitchen and flicked on the kettle, preparing two cups of cinnamon tea.

I felt overly hot but freezing cold all at the same time, and I pulled my sweater over my head along with my shirt and shoved them in one of my bags, kicking off my boots and slumping onto the lounge, feeling drained and dizzy. My body was heated and burnt at the touch by my insides felt clenched and frozen, a battle between fire and ice.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, my breaths coming out ragged and painful. I was only vaguely aware of the light pink blanket that was draped over my body before the couch shifted beside me and Natasha sat down with two steaming mugs in her hand. She passed one to me, and I took a sip, hoping to sooth my dry throat with the heated liquid.

She crossed her legs and faced me, placing a palm on my forehead and sighing slightly.

"Of all the times to get sick. There's meant to be a Helicarrier tour tomorrow afternoon…" she murmured to herself.

"You can go if you want." I croaked, placing the mug down and hugging the blanket to my chest.

"As if I'd go alone." She protested, walking into her room and coming out with a larger blanket and two pillows stacked on top. She ushered me off the lounge and moved the furniture around slightly, before pulling out the sofa bed and setting up the blankets and pillows for me.

I glanced at her, noticing how she avoided meeting eyes with me once again as she flattened out the crinkles in the sheets.

"Natasha?"

She ignored me, and my heart suddenly sank with the feeling of rejection and things started to get a little fuzzy around the edges. Why was she suddenly being so cold and distant with me? If she was upset about the kissing, fine, all she needed to do was say something! But now, after almost three years of sleeping in the same bed, she was dumping me on the sofa lounge. I knew I was being drastic, but couldn't help the sudden ache within me.

She glanced at me then, finally meeting my eyes as she noticed my heavy breathing and swaying body. She quickly walked over to me and led me to the sofa bed, pulling the blanket aside and laying me down. She unbuckled my belt and slid off my jeans, leaving me in my boxers as she drew the blankets back up. She walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a large fan, plugging it in and turning it on low. The cold air felt good against my heated skin but caused me to shudder and pull the blankets up.

"It's going to be a long night." I heard her say as she walked over to the kitchen and clinked around glasses, returning with two cold and flew tablets and a glass of water. I swallowed them and drained the glass, rolling over onto my side and closing my eyes.

"Sorry for the inconvenience." I muttered, hugging the pillow close.

"Clint, I-"

"Goodnight, Natasha."

That night seemed to drag on. I continually woke up from numb sleeps, the taste of sickness and morning breath thick in my mouth that made my stomach roll. I often scrambled out of the sofa bed and blindly made my way to the sink and tried to wash out the taste, all in vein. Sometimes I just stood outside her door, hand poised to knock but stayed still in the air with hesitation. She didn't want to sleep with me a few hours ago, so what would make her want to sleep with me now?

By the time it was half past four, I puckered up the courage to retrieve my toothbush from my bag, silently open up the door and stumble into her room without a sound. Her breathing was heavy and even, and I made my way into the small bathroom, leaving the door open only a little bit before flicking on the light.

Black splodges blurred my vision at first, and I had to lean against the wall and close my eyes for a moment before things became clear.

When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I realised why Natasha would be so doubtful of sleeping with me. My hair was spiking up in all directions, and my stubble was growing thicker then usual. My eyes had dark rings below them and my skin was clammy and pale. I splashed cool water over my face and dried it with a towel, brushing my teeth and trying to freshen up pointlessly in the early hours of the morning.

I flicked off the light and silently padded my way out of the room, closing the door silently behind me. I turned and rubbed my eyes, letting out a loud cough and blowing my nose before plopping back into the bed and sighing in relief. I turned over, and only then did I ever so stupidly notice the presence of another person lying next to me.

"Hey." She whispered, only barely visible in the dim light.

"Hey." I croaked back, suddenly thankful that I'd brushed my teeth. "… did I wake you?"

"No, no. I've been having trouble sleeping all night. So have you." She stated, placing her palm on my forehead again. She sighed and I closed my eyes under her cool touch, kicking my feet out from under the blanket and letting the fan hit them.

"Listen, about everything that's going on between us-"

"Don't." she cut me off, and I raised an eyebrow in the darkness.

"No, seriously, Natasha. I know its stupid but I was actually really hurt when you ditched me to sleep out here tonight. If you regret ever kissing me, all you had to do was say something, things would have gone back to normal and I would have backed off. Fuck, I understand if you don't feel the same way about me as I do about you, but you should know by now that you can tell me these things."

She scoffed and sat up. "Oh please. If I didn't feel the same way, I never would have kissed you."

"What, so you felt the same way, you kissed me, lead me on _twice _and decided that I wasn't good enough for you?" I hissed, sitting up with her but instantly regretting it when my head spun at the movement. I groaned and held my head in my hands.

She chuckled darkly. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." I challenged.

"No. Get to sleep or I'll drug you." She began to scoot out of bed, but I caught her tiny wrist in time and yanked her back down.

"We've been sleeping in the same bed for three years, Nat. You can't just stop that. You know very well that one of the reasons why we can't sleep properly is because we're not with each other."

She sighed and nodded, crawling back under the sheets with me and turning her back to me. I didn't drape an arm around her like usual, instead I turned my back as well and tried to swallow through my dried out throat.

If she wants to be like that, then fine. So will I.

.

_I'll post the link to the artwork of this chapter onto my profile some time tomorrow because I really cannot be bothered right now. Leave a review and tell me what you think!_

_I own nothing other then an imaginary Jeremy Renner who is all MINE!_


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